


Viva La Swimming Pool

by shelwass



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Community: trope_bingo, F/M, Fluff, Tropes, Truth or Dare
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-15
Updated: 2013-04-15
Packaged: 2017-12-08 14:14:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/762260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shelwass/pseuds/shelwass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>During a game of truth or dare, the TARDIS hides the swimming pool.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Viva La Swimming Pool

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Trope Bingo: Truth or Dare. Takes place right before "Cold War," so very mild spoilers for that.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who, its characters, or its universe. It belongs to BBC.

“What’s your name?”  
  
“I told you--I’m the Doctor.” He stared at his brunette companion with a withering look that would make most feel as though they’d just dribbled on their shirt. But not Clara.  
  
“Oh, come on, then--that’s not your  _real_  name. Couldn’t be.”  
  
“I’m the Oncoming Storm, the Destroyer of Worlds...and, if you must know, Mr. Marilyn Monroe.”  
  
She cocked her eyebrows, amused. “Really?”  
  
“Yes.” Her mouth opened, but before she could ask again, he hurried on. “Okay--my turn!” he exclaimed. “Truth or dare?”  
  
“Mm...I like a bit o’ risk. Shall we say dare?” she asked, her brown eyes twinkling as she leaned conspiratorially toward him.  
  
He licked his lips. The floral bouquet of her perfume wafted to his nose--a menacing distraction. “Yes. Right then, Clara Oswald. I dare you to jump into the swimming pool, as you are, right now--with all your clothes on.”  
  
She laughed. “Bli _mey_ , isn’t it supposed to be the other way around?”   
  
“Eh?” He sat up a bit straighter, fidgeting, reaching up to straighten his bowtie.  
  
“You don’t play truth or dare to keep a girl  _in_  her clothes...”  
  
“Clara!” he cried indignantly, and she laughed, bounding up.  
  
“Is that how they do it on your world?” she asked, raising her eyebrows. “Invite a girl into a snog box and give her a proper soak? Might as well take a girl to a wet t-shirt contest.”  
  
“It is  _not_  a snog box!”  
  
She raised her eyebrows, taking a sip of her coffee. “So, you don’t snog anyone, then?”  
  
“No! Well, yes, but not in here. Alright,” he admitted, “ _Maybe_  in here.”  
  
With a laugh, she dashed out of the console room.  
  
“Clara! Where are you going?”  
  
“You said the swimming pool. Like you’ve got one onboard.” Her eyes twinkled. “And I’m going to find it.”  
  


-:-:-:-

  
  
The TARDIS, it seemed, wasn’t particularly fond of Clara. Perhaps it was because she was an anomaly. Perhaps it was because she simply hadn’t warmed up to the new girl...or perhaps she was a bit jealous. Sexy didn’t seem to like it when women caught his attention, unless they had a special connection to her.  
  
As such, the ship led Clara on a wild goose chase for twenty seven minutes.  
  
“Oh, come on, then!” The Doctor grumbled. “Give us a break. It’s not like I’m going to shag her in there.”  
  
Clara poked her head out from around the corner. “What did you say?”  
  
“Routine self-maintenance. The TARDIS is being fussy. Tell you what, though. I’ll be happy to take you to a pool.”  
  
“Even though there’s a perfectly good one onboard?”  
  
“She’s probably placed it back in the library,” he grumbled. “What do you say, Clara? Somewhere resort-y?”  
  
“Hold on,” she said. “Game’s not over. So, Doctor--truth or dare?”  
  
He sighed. “Oh, I don’t know,” he said grumpily. “Truth.”  
  
“Does your ship not like me?”  
  
“Oh, she doesn’t like  _anyone_ ,” he said, and the TARDIS rotor whined. “Jealous old girl.”  
  
“She’s got her own mind, then? How does that work?”  
  
The Doctor sighed. “Oh, Clara...that is a very, very long discussion. One better suited for  _after_  Las Vegas.”  
  
“We’re going to Vegas?”  
  
“Where else do girls jump into pools wearing all their clothes?”  
  
She frowned. “Are you  _sure_  that’s Las Vegas?  
  
“Possibly. Maybe not.” He sighed. “Put on something nice, Clara--I’ll take you to a concert instead.”


End file.
